


Time of My Life

by emynn



Series: Britin Song Drabble Challenge [3]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Post-Series, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-24 21:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3785062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emynn/pseuds/emynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brian's not sure how exactly how he would up here, on stage performing a choreographed dance routine with Daphne. Oh, wait. Yes, he did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time of My Life

**Author's Note:**

> Another in the Britin Song Drabble Challenge. This one is a follow up to [Bound to You](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3784951) and is inspired by [(I've Had) The Time of My Life](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4BQLE_RrTSU) from Dirty Dancing.

His ears ringing from the thunderous applause, Brian holds Daphne’s hand in the air and together they took a bow. He still can’t believe he’s up here on the stage, sweating after having completed a fucking choreographed dance routine. Christ, he hopes nobody took pictures. But knowing Justin, who’s sitting there front row and center, that’s a dead dream. He supposes he’ll have to settle for hoping Justin doesn’t send them to Cynthia.

But really, this is all Justin’s fault in the first place. If he hadn’t gone off to San Francisco for three weeks, Brian wouldn’t have been forced to take Daphne up on her offer to get him “out of his head and out of his Justin-missing sulk” and go out dancing. The first song to come on, of course, was the same one he’d come home to find Justin dancing along to just before he left, and Brian had felt his mood worsen. But Daphne, proving yet again that she and Justin occasionally share one sadistic brain, simply grabbed Brian by the wrist, dragged him out to the dance floor, and told him to shut up and dance with her.

By the end of the night, they were sending Justin countless selfies of themselves having a fantastic time without him. When Brian added “this woman is my destiny” to one of them, Justin even texted back to remind Brian that he was gay, and he was going to be pissed if he came back and found his boyfriend had run off with his best friend.

Brian and Daphne laughed over that one. 

Of course, that was a mistake, as it lulled Brian into a false sense of security. The next day, still nursing a hangover, Brian picked up the phone to a frantic Daphne, who was going off about how her dance partner had twisted his ankle and couldn’t perform in the show. 

“Come on, Brian,” she said. “You’re a  _great_ dancer. And it’s the night Justin gets back, and you _know_ he’d love to see it. You’d be even hotter than Patrick Swayze.”

Yeah, as if Justin hadn’t told Daphne  _exactly_ what to say. Brian was going to have to fucking murder Sunshine.

But somehow, they made it work, and even though it was fucking humiliating, Brian even had to admit it’d been fun to dance with Daphne. Practicing had definitely taken his mind off of missing Justin, even if the aches and pains in his body came from a far less pleasurable source than a marathon fuck session with Justin.

Backstage, Daphne squeals and gives him a huge hug. “Thank you, Brian! That was incredible!”

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” Brian says. Seriously, this entire thing is fucking ridiculous, like the plot to a corny teenage romantic comedy. Only instead of the stand-in dancer falling in love with his dance partner, he’s fucking her best friend.

And, Brian can admit, in love with him, as well. 

“Damn, you know, I was really hoping the next performance would be you in tights.”

Brian turns around. He wants to slam Justin against the nearest flat surface and mash their mouths together and grind against him until they both come in their pants, but there’s something in the way. “Roses, Sunshine? You shouldn’t have.”

Justin raises an eyebrow. “Don’t flatter yourself. These are for Daphne,” he says, and kisses her cheek while handing them to her.

Brian tries to summon the appropriate amount of irritation, but it doesn’t come. All he feels is happiness and relief to have Justin back home, and an astonishingly sweet kind of pleasure from seeing Daphne so giddy and knowing he’s the reason she’s smiling so brightly the theater could turn off their stage lights. 

He realizes quite suddenly, as he watches Justin and Daphne continue giggling together, that Daphne is the closest thing he has to a sister… a sister he danced with and hit on constantly, but a sister nonetheless. Yet one more person he now can’t imagine living without, who fills his days with genuine love and laughter, all thanks to Justin. Somehow, he finds it impossible not to smile after that.

Justin kisses Daphne’s cheek once more, then turns back to Brian. “Come on, Swayze,” he says, and pulls Brian’s face down for a kiss. “Time to do some dirty dancing of our own.”

Brian grins and allows Justin to lead him out of the room, licking his lips at Daphne as they head out. She laughs and hands him a rose, which Brian immediately rubs up the curve of Justin’s neck, drawing out laughing protests as Justin tries to wiggle away.

Fuck his twenties. And fuck all his years as the reigning Sex God of Liberty Avenue.

Right here, right now, Brian’s having the time of his life.

And he owes it all to Justin.


End file.
